Resident Evil: London
by Salmonpuff
Summary: Leon Kennedy finds himself embroiled in a situation in London with the Los Illuminados, this time with help from a fellow Government Agent...


PROLOGUE

Leon S Kennedy hung up his gun, for the last time. For the past seven or so years, he had lived by that gun. He shook his head and sat down heavily on the starkly made up bed, glanced around his sparsely decorated apartment. He shook his head, wondered how after so many years in service to the President; he could have nothing to show for it. Not that he really minded. He _had _loved his job, but after that incident in Spain…

He shuddered. That had turned it for him. Those hours spent in the tiny village of El Pueblo, the castle and the island. That involuntary shudder crept over him once more as he kicked his boots off. He thought, when he had returned Ashley to her father in Washington he could forget about everything. But he just couldn't. Whenever he closed his eyes he could see that big huge monster of Saddler, could feel the Plaga burrowing through his insides.

He leant back and stared at the ceiling, letting his eyes travel over the cracks and the water stains. There was something almost depressing about the state of his Washington Apartment, something incredibly lonely. He knew what it needed, and that was a woman's touch. But he had been unable to even consider finding himself a girlfriend. He was too hung up on Ada, despite the fact that she was in league with some of the most evil people on this earth.

Twenty seven years old, and he felt like an awkward teenager when it came to girls.

From across the room, the phone rang. With a sigh he got up and walked across the room, his bare feet padding on the beige carpet.

"Yeah?"

He sighed as he listened to the voice on the other end of the telephone. He wasn't all that sure who it was, didn't really care to be honest. All he wanted to do was find a bar and drink himself into submission.

"_Leon…it's Claire…I'm in Washington…"_

He blinked. What on earth would Claire Redfield be calling him for? They had last seen each other years ago, she didn't even have his number…

"Claire? What the hell?!"

The voice crackled on the other end of the phone, "_Can we meet? I really need to talk to you…"_

Sighing, he curled the telephone wire round his finger, "Fine…I could do with a drink anyway…9.30 in Martin's Tavern?"

That crackle on the other end again, "_Ok…"_

The phone went dead in his hand. He stared at it for a moment before placing it back on the cradle. A sigh escaped his lips and he ran his hands through his hair. What on earth could Claire want? Shaking his head, he moved over to his closet. Opening it, he pulled out a pair of stonewash blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Might as well be comfortable.

ONE

At 9.15, Leon Kennedy walked into Martin's Tavern on Wisconsin Avenue and ordered himself a vodka on the rocks. He felt the need for a stiff drink, both to calm his nerves and to stop the horrible images that haunted his mind every time he closed his eyes. Sitting at the bar and handing the barman a ten dollar bill, he sipped the clear liquid and felt it burn as it travelled down his throat. There was something about that feeling that calmed him.

If he was being honest with himself, he knew exactly why he had started drinking when he had returned from Spain. He had seen things that no human should ever see, should never even dream about. And even before that, the incident in Raccoon City, those few days he had shared with Claire Redfield…in some ways that had been worse. He had been a rookie cop, it had been his first day on the job and he had walked into a town crawling with zombies and horrific mutants.

He held the cold glass in his hands and stared at it, his mind racing. He must have looked pretty down because the bar man stopped polishing the glasses.

"You OK buddy?"

Leon looked up from beneath a curtain of blonde hair, "What? Oh…yeah, I'm just waiting for someone…"

"A girl I'm guessing."

He shrugged, "What else…?"

The barman turned away, began methodically polishing his glasses again. Leon glanced up at the clock, frowned when he saw that it was almost twenty five minutes to ten. So much for Claire coming to meet him. He drained his glass and gestured for the barman t get him another. He knew he would get drunk, and he welcomed the feeling.

"Drinking yourself into oblivion Leon?"

He jumped at the sound of the voice and turned, almost spilling his vodka. Stood there, looking almost exactly the same just a little older, was Claire Redfield. He felt himself smile as he took in her appearance. Her hair was a little shorter than it had been the last time he had seen her, and was hanging loose about her shoulders. She was dressed in skinny jeans and a red t-shirt, a leather jacket over her shoulders. He stood up, threw his arms around her,

"Claire! It's been so long!"

She gave him a sad smile, "Too long…" she turned to the barman, "Scotch please…"

She took a seat at the bar beside Leon and fell into silence. He sighed and took his place beside her.

"What's up Claire? Why get in contact after all this time?"

She looked up at him and he saw tears in her eyes. This wasn't going to be good.

"It's Wesker…he's got my brother…and this new virus thing that he got from Europe…"

A feeling of dread seemed to weight Leon down. He picked up his glass and downed the vodka, hoping to feel that familiar feeling of intoxication. But he was stone cold sober.

"Las Plagas…" he muttered, clutching the glass.

"What?"

He sighed, "It's what the 'virus' is…I came into contact with it last year, when I had to rescue the presidents daughter from a cult called 'Los Illuminados' …Las Plagas are a parasite that infect the body and overtake it…it's not nice…the people who become infected, they aren't zombies…they're still human, but they can be controlled…"

Claire blinked, placed her scotch back on the bar untouched, "You know about this?"

He shrugged, "I was infected…But why are you telling me this?"

She blinked, "Because I need your help…I need to get my brother back…"

Leon shrugged, "Not gunna happen sweetheart. I gave up all that heroic stuff…"

He didn't like the way her voice sounded. He knew he had said the wrong thing there, she sounded so desperate, "Please Leon…I'm begging you…"

He sighed, feeling himself waver. Maybe it was in his blood to act the hero. But surely, Chris Redfield, the best cop in STARS, could get himself out? He looked at her.

"where?"

Claire shrugged, "England…London. Umbrella has taken over the city and there has been stories of a mass outbreak of a fever or something, and reports of people attacking each other…that's where they are…"

Leon sighed again, "Y'know, I promised myself I'd give all this stuff up…"

"Please Leon…"

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, "All right…but only because we're friends. After this…I'm giving it up…Give me some time to say goodbye to people…"

Claire nodded and downed her scotch, "All right…"

He said nothing more, just left another few dollars on the bar and walked out.

TWO

London, England

Chris Redfield shivered and pulled his old STARS team jacket closer about himself. His dark eyes scanned the tiny storage room he was being kept in. It was dark and smelly, full of mouldy looking boxes. The small window in the room held no glass, only bars, and the cold English winter whipped through the room.

How had he gotton himself into this mess? He thought it was all over after he and Claire had left that godforsaken island. He had thought that Albert Wesker had been killed. How wrong he was.

He sighed, stood up and stretched. Surely someone in the city must have seen something, must have some suspicion over what was going on with Umbrella. Of course not, he had seen the people of London himself. They were like the zombies from all those years ago, except more…human. But how could that be? Surely Wesker couldn't have developed a newer version of the G-Virus? Through the door he had heard voices, talking about something called 'Las Plagas'. He didn't know what they were, but he didn't like the sound of them.

The door of the room creaked open and the tall, white blonde haired figure of Albert Wesker stepped inside. Chris suppressed a shudder. This man, his old chief, used to be a good man, but something had happened to him. To survive the attack by the Tyrant and that fire, that was superhuman. Wesker still wore the same black uniform, the same black glasses. But he hadn't aged, at all.

"Chris, Chris, Chris…"

Chris made eyecontact with him, "What?"

Albert Wesker shook his head, leaning against the door frame, "Still the same arrogant boy you always were…"

Chris couldn't help but laugh, "Y'know Wesker, I always thought you were such a good guy, an inspiration…guess I was wrong."

Wesker pulled a face, "Keep your smart mouth to yourself," he turned away, stepped back, "I brought you a playmate."

A small figure was thrown into the room, one of those mindless zombie things stood beside Wesker leering in. Chris watched the figure as it struggled into a sitting position. He almost gasped, seeing it was a young woman, shackled and bruised. Beneath the dirt, the blood and the bruises, Chris could see a beauty shine through. Her hair was long and brown and fell about her shoulders in loose curls. She wore a pair of tight blue jeans and a checkered shirt, both torn and covered in bruises. What made him think though, was the gun holsters round her waist and legs. All the guns had been removed.

"Play nicely now Redfield. We don't want either of you damaged!"

The storage room door slammed and Chris heard the lock turn. He immediately stood up and moved over to the young woman. He knelt down beside her and helped her to sit up. She stared at him fearfully, though made no move to get away.

"It's ok…I'm a friend…"

She sniffed, "Get these ropes off me…"

He nodded, reached into his knife sheath and pulled out his hunting knife, the only weapon that Wesker had left him with, and quickly slit the ropes that were binding her wrists. She shrugged them off and rubbed her wrists as if trying to get the circulation back. After a moment she looked at him.

"Who are you?"

She spoke in an American accent, so different to the gruff accents of the hostile locals. He gave her a small smile, "Chris Redfield…"

Her eyes rested on his STARS jacket, "You're a cop?"

He nodded, "What about you? Over here on vacation or something?"

She gave a small laugh, "Sarah Turner, and no…wouldn't be a very good vacation really. I'm a…I'm a government agent sent over here to stop Umbrella…"

He nodded. The story was always the same. Someone was always sent in to stop these things but something always went wrong. It just so happened that the one they'd sent had been captured and locked up. He stood back up and moved back over to the bench. With a sigh he sat back down and looked at her.

"Unfortunately, looks like we're stuck here. There's no way out…unless you have a lock pick stashed away somewhere…"

A grin crept onto the girls face and she stood up, reached into her pockets and pulled out a small silver device, similar to the one that he'd seen Jill Valentine use on so many occasions.

"Looks like its your lucky day!"

THREE

Ashley Graham stared out of the window and across the Whitehouse's ornamental gardens. A sigh escaped her lips and she lowered her head, making her blonde hair fall about her face. A year had passed since that horrible incident in Spain, since Leon had rescued her. So much had happened since then. She had insisted on training to become an agent for the government, determined not to find herself as helpless as she had been at the hands of Saddler, and her friendship with Leon had grown. But now he was stood in the Whitehouse living room, all tooled up with knives and guns, and telling her he was going to fight again.

"I'm sorry Ashley…"

She turned around, stared at him coldly, "Don't put yourself through that again Leon…"

He shrugged, "I made a promise to a friend, and I always keep my promises…"

She nodded and walked forward, "I know you do Leon…but jesus, its just like what happened in Spain…you know there's already an operative out there right? And we lost contact with her?" She nodded upon seeing the look Leon gave her, "Exactly! It's going to be just as bad, if not worse!"

Leon sighed and looked at the floor, "Claire and I have already been through something like this Ashley. I have to help her…"

She shook her head, "I can't let you do that…"

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, "You're not stopping me Ashley…"

He didn't like the smile that she wore. He knew what was going to come out of her mouth.

"Then I'm coming with you!"

He wasn't sure he could deal with this. Last time he'd been involved in such a situation with Ashley she had been captured and separated from him on too many occasions. Granted that this time, she wasn't the one being subjected to the Las Plagas, but still, he didn't want to be haunted by memories from last year. He knew she was speaking but he barely heard her. _I'm trained for stuff like this now Leon. Not like last time when I couldn't even fire a gun! I'm coming and no excuses._

There was no point in arguing. She was the presidents daughter after all, and upsetting her meant upsetting the president. Which would not be good. Eventually he nodded.

"Fine. Get your stuff. We leave as soon as you're ready…"

FOUR

Sarah Turner pushed open the storage room door and stepped outside, knife in hand. Behind her ws Chris, also with his knife in hand. The corridor was deserted. She had expected to see at least a dozen of those crazed zombie like people, but there was no one about. She reached the end of the small alcove where the storage room was and poked her head round the corner. Still nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Chris.

"There's no one about. I think we're ok for now…"

He nodded, "Still be a good idea to get some weaponry."

He was right of course. The problem was finding where their weapons had been locked away. There must be an armoury round here, or at least somewhere that confiscated items were kept. Sarah sighed and shook her head. She had no clue what she was looking for, especially not in a huge Umbrella facility. This was what happened when the US Government sent someone out when they had never done a big important mission such as this before.

"I really don't know what I'm looking for…"

Chris gave her a small smile and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry. We'll find it…"

She returned the smile and stepped back, more than willing for the experienced STARS team member to take over.

_What am I doing? Why did I let her talk me into this?_

The questions kept circulating in Leons mind as he sat in the chopper opposite Claire and Ashley. Here he was, heading out into the unknown yet again, not knowing what sort of monstrosities would greet him. He shuddered. He could only guess what he would come across…huge mutants, humans with hideous mutations sprouting from their faces. He didn't want to face a Saddler monster again. Hell, he didn't want to face someone like Jack Krauser again.

They had been travelling for hours and had only just crossed into British air space. It wouldn't be long before they landed in London. He could hear the chopper blades rotating and the sound was starting to grate on him. He desperately wanted a drink, but he knew he had to keep his head clear. What he would be facing over the next few hours could not be faced when drunk.

Fact.

He glanced over at Claire and Ashley. The two girls had hardly spoken to each other since they had first borded the chopper. Leon sighed. He didn't understand women at all. There was probably some unwritten code or something which meant they couldn't talk to each other.

"Ok folks. We're preparing to land. Make sure you have all your belongings with you, cuz we aint stayin'"

Leon resigned himself to the fact that this was happening when the pilots voice buzzed over the intercom. He had everything he needed on him. His trusty shotgun, handgun and Broken Butterfly Magnum were in their holsters, his knife securely strapped at his shoulder whilst he carried copious amounts of ammo and healing items in his small pack. The girls were less well prepared, both only had a handgun and a knife on them. Though he knew they would both be fine, having both been in similar situations before.

With a bump, the chopper came into landing. Resigning himself to what was about to happen, he stood up and opened up the chopper doors. He jumped out and found himself in the middle of a large parking lot. A large, empty parking lot. He turned round, saw Claire and Ashley stood slightly back, both with the same resigned looks on their faces. He watched solemnly as the chopper lifted again and flew away.

"Looks like we're stuck here" he muttered, pulling his handgun from the holster and loading it, "Let's find your brother Claire…"

FIVE

The city was deserted. Leon frowned as the three of them wandered down the long road which lead to Buckingham Palace. Cars were stranded, just left on the roads, at traffic lights. There was even one abandoned in the middle of a flower patch. This was too much like what had happened in Raccoon City, and he didn't like it. The memories from eight years previously still stalked his mind, mixed with what had happened in Spain. He glanced at Claire and saw that she was thinking the same.

He remembered walking into the Kendo gun shop just after they'd had that accident in Raccoon City, Robert Kendo pointing the shotgun at him. The man had come round of course, seen that he wasn't dangerous. He heard the crash of the window beneath the weight of the zombies, heard Robert's screams. He remembered walking into the station and seeing that _creature _crawling on the ceiling, a fresh corpse lying headless on the floor.

Then there was Ada.

Ada Wong who had appeared so suddenly in his life again the previous year. Ada Wong, the woman who he had fallen for, who had helped him through so much in Raccoon city, had turned out to be a spy, an agent only interested in getting the T Virus. The same thing had happened in Spain. All she had wanted was the Plaga sample.

She had never been interested in him.

He shook his head and stopped, his hand resting on the hilt of his shotgun. He had no clue where he was going, what he was looking for.

"You say Wesker has your brother?" he looked at Claire, who nodded, "Amy idea where they are? Because I doubt very much they're in Buckingham Palace…"

Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he stared at the grand royal palace with the huge fountain in front of it. Like everything else, it was completely deserted. He doubted that even the Queen of England had been able to survive what Albert Wesker had unleashed on the city.

Claire shrugged, "There's a huge Umbrella Complex here somewhere…I've heard it's underground and you can reach it from…" she thought for a moment, "The London Eye…"

Leon sighed. The London Eye was a hell of a walk away, especially since he doubted that the tubes weren't running.

"I guess its back that way then!" he growled, turning on his heel and stalking back the other way.

But something caught his eye, made him stop dead in his tracks. Just ahead, a burly looking man shuffled along the mall. His clothes were torn and his skin looked a horrific grey colour. In his hands, he dragged a huge double headed axe, which dragged along the concrete, sending sparks flying everywhere. Leon stared at him, hardly able to believe his eyes. He doubted very much that this was a survivor. Especially looking like that. The man spoke to himself, muttered constantly.

"Leon!"

The warning came from Claire as the man stopped as stared at the three of them. His eyes bored into them. Bright red eyes distilling all their hatred on the three of them.

"DIE!"

It was a sort of muffled shout as the man raised the axe and rushed forward. Leon heard a scream from behind him, probably Ashley. With a rush of confidence Leon pulled his handgun from the holster and aimed it at the mans forehead, sqeezed the trigger. With a deafening bang, the gun fired and the man gave a grunt before falling to his knees.

Dead.

He walked forward, rolled the body over with his foot. He had seen this before, last year. This was no ordinary man, the grey skin and the red eyes gave it away. This was a Ganado, a normal man infected with the plaga.

More noises from behind. He almost screamed when he heard the familiar sound of a chainsaw starting up, memories of that crazy Dr Salvador guy from El Pueblo rushing to the forefront of his mind. He turned slowly, grimaced in fear when he saw the man with the sack on his head and the chainsaw roaring in his hands step towards them. Behind the chainsaw man was a whole troop of Ganados, all carrying weapons.

Time for a new weapon.

He pulled out his shoutgun, shouted orders at the girls to pull out their weapons. This wasn't going to be easy. With a grin, he cocked and loaded the shotgun and aimed it at the chainsaw man's head.


End file.
